


Five Things Sawada Ienobu Inherited And Wished He Hadn't

by kirui



Series: Building a Legacy [3]
Category: Katekyou Hitman Reborn!
Genre: Crack, Future Fic, Gen, Humor, Speculation
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-06-01
Updated: 2014-06-01
Packaged: 2018-02-03 01:08:10
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,327
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1725614
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kirui/pseuds/kirui
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>There are heirlooms. And then there are Heirlooms.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Five Things Sawada Ienobu Inherited And Wished He Hadn't

**Author's Note:**

> Takes place in the same universe as [Building a Legacy in Three Acts](http://archiveofourown.org/works/525370) I suppose. For this idea to succeed, I needed someone from the "next generation" so to speak. And since I already had one in the wings, it seemed pretty logical to just run with it.
> 
> Further clarification for each "Heirloom," if necessary, can be found in the End Notes.

**[1] The Problem With Tradition**

"Godfather Reborn," Nobu began, "I believe you have served this family long enough, and I really don't think it is necessary that you continue to dedicate your life—" only to snap his mouth shut, teeth clicking audibly when Reborn laughed in his face.

"Weak, Nobu, very weak," Reborn chided, fondly derisive. He twirled his gun on a seemingly careless finger, but Nobu wasn't born yesterday; nothing Reborn did was careless. "You're going to have to present a much better argument than that."

The young Vongola heir winced. He supposed it could be worse. At least it wasn't "Can't Find His Way Out of a Paper Bag Nobu," or something even more acerbic like "Worse Than Your Father Nobu."

" _Dad_." Nobu tried another angle, though perhaps with a little more desperation than was befitting of the Vongola family heir.

"It's a Family tradition, Nobu," his father said in what he probably thought was a soothing manner.

Nobu knew better though. Oh, the sympathy with which Sawada Tsunayoshi bestowed upon his firstborn was genuine enough. But a father's good intentions were pointless in such matters. After all, what it all ultimately boiled down to was: As I had suffered, so shall you. 

Reborn seemed to agree, for better or for worse. "Shut up, Tsuna. There was nothing traditional about your pathetic performance when I first got my hands on you." He cast his piercing stare once more on Nobu. "We'll begin your _real_ training tomorrow. Be ready at six. In the morning."

_________________________________

**[2] Only A Technical Difficulty**

Smoke and gun powder. The indescribable feeling of his cells, atoms, and subatomic particulars fissuring and coalescing anew while space and time shrieked around him. 

Blinking away the stinging grit in his eyes, Nobu promised himself that the first thing he'd do after he took charge of the Family was to freeze all further research on time travel technology. In the meantime, he'd settle for docking Giannini's pay again and surviving the next five minutes. 

He looked around warily. Only to freeze in his tracks at the sight that greeted him.

"... daddy?"

And this, _this_ was every reason and then some for why he'd try so very hard to reject his father's rather disturbing insistence that he should accept big brother Lambo's gift.

 _Of course_ Giannini had been tinkering with it again. _Of course_ the results this time consisted of him staying in place while his prepubescent self stared up at him in guileless confusion.

Of course his prepubescent self would mistaken him for their father.

Of course.

_________________________________

**[3] At Least It Wasn't A Fork**

His father inherited the Primo's gloves. Xanxus possessed the Secondo's flame. And as luck would have it—or rather, as _his_ luck would have it...

"Congratulations, Ienobu Sawada," Tsuna intoned proudly. His voice carried over the heads of all those gathered in the vaulted ballroom chambers. 

Nobu released another sigh under his breath and steeled himself. Turning to face the rest of the crowd, he smiled resolutely, brow and blade ablaze with the steady flicker of his dying will.

The approval from his family and mentors washed over him like a warm wave. Truth be told, he'd been hoping for something more... utilitarian. But who was he to question how his head tutor's pet chameleon decided what instruments young mafia heirs should possess? 

He tried to ignore the choking fits of hysteria coming from somewhere to his left where half of his father's Guardians stood. By now, Mukuro Rokudou's increasingly breathless chortles were edging towards cackles and there was no sign of him stopping. 

"This is good. This is great. Reincarnation has officially made your entire bloodline its bitch, Tsunayoshi. This is _perfect_."

Nobu wasn't too worried though, judging from the steadily growing brazier of murderous intent where the other half of his father's Guardians stood on his right, Nobu knew the matter of "Papa Nappo" laughing himself sick was none of his concern. 

So, wielding his glorified letter opener aloft, Sawada Ienobu saluted the otherwise respectfully silent masses.

_________________________________

**[4] Sixth Sense**

Fuuta found him huddled miserably in the smallest, most cramped closet available in one of the least-used wings of the manor. 

"What are you doing up here, Nobu?"

"Hiding."

"Yes, I can see that. But why? Miss Vedetta and Miss Fabressa arrived already and have been looking for you all afternoon."

Nobu opened his mouth to answer but, to Fuuta's surprise, flinched as if he'd just been struck across the face by a rather large and hefty frozen fish. "You never saw me!" he hissed, eyes glazed feverishly with the desperation of a hunted man, and slammed the door in Fuuta's surprised face.

Unsure of whether he should kindly stage an intervention for the poor boy, Fuuta stayed rooted to his spot for a good two minutes—which turned out to be just enough time for the visiting ladies to stroll into view from around the corner.

" _Signorina_ Vedetta, _Signorina_ Fabressa," Fuuta said politely as they neared his position.

"Signore de la Stella!" Vedetta exclaimed. "Fancy meeting you here!" Fabressa tittered behind a dainty hand.

"Yes, what a strange and happy coincidence," Fuuta murmured. They seemed genuinely surprised at his presence at least. He wondered briefly at their sudden appearance in the emptiest part of the manor. "Is there anything I can help you ladies with?"

"Oh, no, no not at all. Fabressa and I were just exploring while Papa discussed business with Signore Sawada. But, oh," her eyes gleamed, "would you by any chance have seen Ienobu around? He was supposed to show us the terraces after lunch, but he seems to have disappeared."

Fuuta stifled his startled laugh by sheer will as the pieces fell into place. "I'm sorry to hear that, but I haven't seen him since this morning either."

Both girls looked suitably disappointed at that and bid him goodbye before hurrying off again.

"I swear, did I miss the hunting season notice? I feel like a chicken in a fox den." The closet door creaked open to reveal a rather harried looking Nobu. "I mean, I suppose it has its uses, but this _can't_ be good for my health." He scrubbed a weary hand over his face before turning pleading eyes on the Ranking Prince. "This hyper intuition thing, there's no way to turn it off is there? I don't know how much more my nerves can take."

"Not that I know of," Fuuta admitted. "Would you, um, like me to have someone bring you some dinner later?"

"Oh god, yes. Yes please."

_________________________________

**[5] The Greatest Weapon You'll Ever Own**

Nobu had just officially assumed the position as the new Head of the Vongola when the package with no return address arrived.

The parcel itself was unlabelled. Unmarked. Wrapped in brown postage paper, it was indeed quite unremarkable.

The contents on the other hand were another matter.

Nobu regarded the small metal box in the quiet privacy of his office. Gunmetal grey, without a single etched design as to hint its purpose. It was about the same size as any standard, mass-produced box-weapon; but unlike those other boxes, this one lacked any identifiable marking whatsoever.

It was truly against his better judgement to press his flame-wreathed ring into the small indentation on the lid, but his intuition had been remaining oddly quiet...

The release of sheer, raw power was almost instantaneous; the atmospheric pressure increasing so as to sit heavily on his lungs. Mauve-hued clouds of smoke billowed from the innocuously small object, obscuring everything within its immediate three-feet radius.

Nobu stilled the moment he felt that familiar prickle along the back of his neck. He recognised this aura. He recognised this killing intent.

More importantly, he recognised the little yellow tuft of a bird flitting about his head.

"There had better be a good reason as to why you disturbed my sleep, little herbivore."

_________________________________

**Fin**  
Completed: January 9, 2011 

**Author's Note:**

> [1] Reborn. Because let's face it, that BAMF is going to live forever one way or another.
> 
> [2] 10 Years Later Bazooka. Malfunctioning, as per usual.
> 
> [3] [Vongola Terzo's](http://reborn.wikia.com/wiki/Vongola_Terzo) pathetic excuse for a knife. The fork comment is a jibe at the Quarto's [weapon of choice](http://images4.wikia.nocookie.net/__cb20091014050043/reborn/images/thumb/4/42/Vongola_Quarto.jpg/180px-Vongola_Quarto.jpg).
> 
> [4] Vongola Hyper Intuition
> 
> [5] Box-weapon!Hibari. And this, my friends, is the crack idea that started everything else.


End file.
